


don't wanna taakobout it

by ceilingfan5



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Blood, Cuddling on the floor, Embarrassment, Established Relationship, Forehead Kisses, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, injury isn't super graphic, kitchen accident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 08:44:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14077176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceilingfan5/pseuds/ceilingfan5
Summary: Sometimes it takes getting injured to get cared for. Taako gets some much-needed positive reinforcement from his boyfriend Kravitz after cutting himself accidentally while making dinner.





	don't wanna taakobout it

**Author's Note:**

> Taako's been through a lot. He's endured a lot of injuries. He needs to be held and taken care of and kissed on the forehead. Kravitz will volunteer any day.

It’s been a long, long day. Long enough that Taako forgets himself, forgets his boyfriend, loses his focus, and fucks up real bad. It’s stupid. Kravitz popping into the kitchen shouldn’t have startled him, especially shouldn’t have distracted him enough to bypass his hard-won knife skills, but he cuts himself with the vegetable knife, and suddenly there’s blood in the mirepoix and Kravitz is making a fuss and Taako hits his head on the corner of an open cabinet door (stupid) and he’s down for the count.

It’s stupid. It’s stupid, stupid, stupid, and the second he’s back up (only a moment, no trauma here, move along) he’s embarrassed, but once he takes a moment to register beyond the pain of it (certainly not pretty), he’s in Kravitz’s lap on the floor and Kravitz is still freaking out, wrapping the cut on his hand and holding him like he’s dying or something. Taako wants to make a crack about it, how he’s certainly gotten worse in the past and he’ll get worse in the future and it’s no big deal, let him finish dinner for crying out loud. But. He doesn’t. 

It feels sort of nice, to be worried about. It’s strange, foreign even, and it feels like a lie, like he’s playing it up and being a baby or something. He remembers times on the road, when he was first learning his knife skills, or times when he was adventuring with a bunch of chucklefucks, broken almost to the point of no return and expected to carry on. A bump on the head and a cut with a sharp kitchen knife should be no big deal. 

“You’re awake!”

Kravitz’s voice is urgent, like Taako could possibly have died from his horrific kitchen accident, and it seems almost silly. It’s embarrassing. It’s cheating, getting attention this way. Reveling in the concern in his face and the strength in his grip and the delicate way he’s laid the bandages so he’ll heal with no scars. First aid, not healing magic. Could the grim reaper have possibly been so flustered by a little blood he forgot everything he knew about the arcane arts?

“Yeah, man. What’s shaking?”

“Are you concussed? Wait, you wouldn’t know. I’ll- I should check, or something-”

“No biggie. What’s a little concussion between friends?”

Kravitz stares at him in a way that makes Taako’s skin crawl. 

“Taako- Taako, that’s your brain. You can’t just-”

“It’s hardly my first, if I do have one. Did you save the onion? It was a good onion.”

“Taako-” Kravitz starts, and gives up again. And then he tries again. “Taako, you really hurt yourself.”

“It’s just a few cuts,” Taako mumbles, shrugging, and even still Kravitz doesn’t let up. It’s nice, being in his arms, the center of his attention, but it feels false somehow. Like it’s stolen. It’s not as if Taako’s above stealing, of course, but it feels entirely different.

“You bled all over the counter. I- I’m so sorry- It’s my fault, I should have said something-”

Taako smiles a little and looks up at him. 

“What, you’re worried cause it’s your fault?”

Kravitz blanches a little, which is impressive for him on a normal day, but he’s steadfast yet. 

“I’m worried because I care about you, Taako. I don’t want you to be hurt. You matter to me, you big doofus.”

“Huh,” Taako says, totally not avoiding eye contact. It’s got him feeling some type of way, and it’s weird. It’s not as if the dos otros horny boys didn’t care about Taako. Or that he was lost to the universe growing up. He had Lup. He had caravans. He had the IPRE. He had himself. 

But he inexplicably has eyes full of tears, and an ache that had nothing to do with his kitchen buffoonery. 

It wasn’t something he could articulate, that he wanted someone to wrap him in their arms and fucking care, for no good reason. That it felt fake when it finally happened. That he wanted to push away Kravitz and move on, that he wanted to wrap himself up like a mummy and live in those arms just as bad, that he would cry for real if Kravitz did something stupid and unnecessary like kiss his forehead, injured or otherwise. It stings, it stings so hard it makes it difficult to breathe, and he pulls Kravitz’s arms tighter around him even when Krav protests something about his bandage. It’s stupid to feel this way--like--like he’d do anything for a little friendly physical contact. They’ve been together for a year, he shouldn’t be so stupidly desperate, and it’s mortifying that they’re laying on the floor like this, but-

Kravitz kisses his forehead like some kind of evil mind-reader, and Taako cries for some stupid reason he can’t put into words he’d want to say out loud, and alarmed as Kravitz is, he holds him there tightly instead of jumping up for rubber gloves and fantasy neosporin. 

“Hey, hey, shhh. It’s alright. It’s okay. It’s not that bad. It’ll be an easy fix.” 

It’s not about that. 

“Don’t worry about dinner. We can order takeout.” 

That’s not it either, although it is kind of embarrassing. Like he’s some kind of ameteur. Hello, yes, I’d like the I-cut-myself-so-bad-I-ruined-dinner Special please, hold the called-the-fire-department plastic silverware, thank you very much. 

“Taako?”

“What.”

Kravitz strokes his hair in the most adoring, tender way and Taako shrivels a little and leans into it, undeserving and desperate for it, and he feels so small and stupid, like a dumb little kid who’s never held a sharp knife before, but Krav’s cool hands feel nice against the enormous bump rising on his forehead. 

“Don’t ‘what’ me. I care about you. Alright? You spooked me, bleeding everywhere on the floor like that. I thought-”

“...What?”

It’s Krav’s turn to be embarrassed. 

“For a second, you looked dead. I- I mean- I know- I know I would know, if you were, you know, but it scared me, and you were bleeding so much, I was worried, okay, and you probably think I’m babying you, but I just wanted to be sure, you know, that you were alright, and you just deserve to be cared for, and I didn’t want to just magic it away even though now that I think about it you’d probably be in less pain if I had just done that from the start, and-”

Taako’s throat hurts. His chest hurts. His heart swells. Gods above, this man. How the hell did two freaks like them find each other?

“You’re fine.” He waves him off with the wrong hand, brushes past all of his worries and thoughts and intentionally lets himself just be, just be in his arms and be there, with him, and let Kravitz care for him, like he deserves it or something. “Keep it up with the hair, though. Think my brains are a little scrambled.”

It’s as close as he can get, at the moment, to “keep caring about me, I need it more than I could possibly say and you’re keeping me together so you’d better not fucking let go, alright?” but it’s close enough, because those cold, cold hands stay right where he wants them and Krav shifts to hold him better in his lap, looking down at him like he hung the stars in the sky or something dumb and gay like that. It makes his chest hurt in an entirely different way, and he kinda likes it, and it’s alright. Fuck, he deserves a little alright here and there, doesn’t he? He doesn’t have to fight for scraps anymore. He can just ask. Leave it to Kravitz to make him feel like he deserves to be cared about, or some shit, deserves to be held and adored and treated like a living thing and worried about when he’s hurt and taken care of when he can’t hold his own. And that doesn’t mean Taako can’t hold his own, it just means he doesn’t have to every single time. Kravitz has his back, like and unlike Lup did once, and it makes him hurt and makes him smile and makes him cry and he wants to push it all back, too authentic to handle, but maybe just this once he can cry concussion and have a few feelings to himself. 

“No pizza, though.”

“Yeah, alright.” Krav smiles down at him like he can read minds or something and Taako isn’t down with that sort of bullshit, so he closes his eyes and pretends he’s in too much pain to watch Krav smile at him like an idiot. It’s not as if he’s above milking it now that he’s accepted it. One thing at a time.

**Author's Note:**

> It's super late but I hope you like it and if you do let me know   
> hurt/comfort is one of my favorites and sometimes you need to indulge and project a little you feel me  
> I'm posting some Other Things when I wake up tomorrow if you're looking for something a little more M rated just a heads up


End file.
